


Embers at Dusk

by saintlysage



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Assassination Attempt(s), F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Mafia AU, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-War, Reunions, Smut, Zutara Month 2020, Zutara Week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25680886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintlysage/pseuds/saintlysage
Summary: One hundred years ago the House of Sozin relinquished their powers of crown and state and started a war, founding a criminal empire on the ashes of thousands. It has been six years since Team Avatar ended that war, and stopped Ozai for good. Zuko has spent all of that time fighting tooth and nail to turn his family’s criminal legacy into something good, and maybe, if he's lucky, something he can be proud of.Meanwhile, Katara is trying to get through college, and figure out what life after war means. Alone in Ba Sing Se, battling anxiety and insomnia, she begins feeling pangs of loneliness, and wonders...is she walking the right path, or is she simply lost in the dark?When the two reunite after a chance encounter at the coffee shop Katara works at, they unknowingly reignite a bitter feud. Can they manage to save each other one last time? Or will everything they are fighting for be lost forever?
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 38





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! It has been a very long time since I have dabbled in fic. This is just for fun, but thank you to anyone who is along for the ride! I am having some formatting issues, but I hope to fix those soon. Thank you! <3

Why, in the name of all the spirits, was there a rush on a Wednesday afternoon? The Heron Cafe was popular, and they were always at least a little busy, that’s why Katara applied there in the first place, but this three o clock rush was something else. They had orders backed up for the next half hour, and while the customers were being mostly understanding, there were a few toe tappers and throat-clearers just begging to have their coffee dumped on their shoes. 

Katara ducked around her coworker Song, who was somehow balancing five lattes as she hustled to the order counter, then set to work yanking out the dirty coffee filters at the brewing station so she could start three new batches. Those went into the trash, she started the drip coffee, then sidestepped to the espresso machine where she started pulling shots for the next ticket. 

_White mocha with an add shot and a pump of raspberry._

Syrup in, coffee in, steam the milk...

The customers in the lobby were wall to wall and the din of chatter, orders being called, the steam from the espresso machine and the sound of the blenders was nearly deafening, and Katara could see her other coworker Hua was going pink around the ears which usually meant she was one raised voice away from a panic attack. Katara was used to working under a lot worse pressure than this, so she tried to pick up as much slack as she could to make things easier on everyone else. Picking up slack was allowed, water bending coldbrew down someone's shirt for yelling at Hua was not.

It wouldn’t be so bad if Aigo hadn’t been late. He still hadn’t shown up. Katara hissed and snatched her hand away from the steamer, ignoring the slight burn so she could pour the milk for this mocha. 

_Just get through the rush, once the last order is out send Hua on her break, kill Aigo as soon as he walks in the door, then bring him back to life so you can go home, then kill him again tomorrow for making you stay late._

She angrily swirled whipped cream on top of the drink and snapped the lid on, turning it as she went to the order counter so she could call out the label.

“Raspberry white mocha with an add shot for...Zu-” She stopped dead in her tracks. No that couldn’t be right. What the hell would he be doing in Ba Sing Se? There was just no way. Not here at her job where she was tallying up what would be hers in in the tip jar at the end of the night, sweat pouring down her back, temper just this side of frayed. 

But she looked from the cup in her hands to the lobby, and she had no idea how he’d escaped her notice in the first place.

It had been two years since she'd seen him last, but it must have been a lifetime because he looked worlds different. He’d always been tall, but now he was filled out too. Less gangly, more muscle, broader shoulders, a more defined jawline. And his hair. It was so long now. Today it was half up in a top knot while the rest fell loose over his shoulders. He hadn’t noticed her yet, he was busy scrolling through his phone, a concerned tick in his jaw telling her he wasn’t liking what he was seeing. Women were staring and tittering to their friends, men were glaring or blushing along with them. Did they recognize him? The scar fanned along his left eye looked no less angry or conspicuous now than it had when she first met him. Maybe it was his looks or the way he was dressed. It was understated: nice shoes, black fitted jeans, and a dark red shirt with the subtle silhouette of a dragon curling around it in a slightly darker tone. But even understated in design it screamed money. 

It was almost...strange to see him like this-polished and well dressed, when she had seen him covered in dirt, blood and bruises, in every state of dishevelment and undress there was, as a friend, as an enemy...

Behind her, Song called out another order, glaring at her as she slapped it on the counter. _What is wrong with you?_ She mouthed before darting back to the bar. Katara shook her head like that would shoo the memories away, cleared her throat and tried to call out but she couldn’t, her brain seemed to be malfunctioning from the shock of seeing him standing placidly under the glow of fluorescent lights. So she simply said, “Zuko.”

His head snapped up like she’d rung a bell in his ear, and he blinked in surprise as he registered just who he was looking at. “Katara.” He said, sounding stunned. His hand drifted down as he shoved his phone back in his pocket, almost like he forgot why he was holding it in the first place

She didn’t know how his pleasant, raspy baritone traveled through the absolute chaos of the shop, but she was glad it did. The familiarity of him was so sudden, she didn’t know quite what to do, so she lifted his cup.

“Yours?” She asked, grinning. She remembered him choking down plain tea after he first joined their little outfit, and he smiled back like he was remembering the same thing- it reached his eyes, and he flashed his teeth, and the woman next to him was letting the ice in her drink melt as she ogled his pointy canines. 

He took the cup from her outstretched hands and glanced down as her knuckles briefly grazed his palm. “I have a sweet tooth these days. I-” He seemed to catch himself and looked around at the crowded shop, then guiltily at her. 

“Bad timing. Here.” He fished something out of his pocket and handed it to her across the bar, being careful not to jostle the small army of cups piling up there. “Call or text when you get a chance, I’m in town for a while I uh...It’s been too long. Anyway.”

He lifted his mocha in an awkward salute before making his way back through the crowd, and slipping out the door, holding it open for a moment so a lanky young man could enter. Katara narrowed her eyes at Aigo as she tucked Zuko’s business card into her jeans and went back to the bar, working at a furious pace to catch up to Song, who leaned over to her between shaking up an iced tea. “What the hell was that all about? And was that who I thought it was?”

Katara winced, but nodded as she finished making a red eye and called it out at the order bar. Sokka and Toph never understood her aversion to being recognized after the war. The attention never bothered them, but she tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It was never as easy as she’d like it to be, which is something that happened when you had a unique name and became a war hero at 14. Song knew who she was right away, when she started working here a year ago, so of course she would guess who the young man with the burn scar on his face was. Plausible deniability only went so far. 

Song shooed her away from the bar and into the back. “Get out of here before you stay all night. Get your stuff, I’ll tip you out.” 

Katara nodded, too out of it to argue. Zuko in Ba Sing Se? What were the odds that he showed up here after not being around for over two years? And when had he changed his number? The Gaang had kept a running group chat since the end of the war pretty much, and now that she thought of it, hadn’t his texts dropped off around two years ago too? 

She frowned and hung up her apron and hat before grabbing her bag. Aigo was fumbling with the ties of his apron, red in the face as he avoided looking at her. 

“There was traffic.” He mumbled. 

“Don’t you bike here?” She deadpanned. 

He pressed his lips and hurried onto the floor, passing Song as she came back with Katara’s tips. “If you’re late again your ass is done Aigo.” She snarled. Her glossy brown hair had partially come out of her bun and some of it was sticking to her cheeks and the back of her neck. Katara was sure she looked just as harried which was just perfect. Well. At least Zuko had seen worse than that. 

“Here.” She handed Katara a wad of bills and smirked, her brown eyes bright with curiosity. “Keep me up to speed on the whole mafia prince scenario.”

“Zuko’s a really old friend Song, I don’t think I have much intrigue to give you.” Katara shook her head but she was smiling. There had always been so many degrees of separation between the Gaang and the world at large, but as they all went on to live normal lives, that became less and less. Celebrity status became reclusive author status. So as odd as it felt maybe it wasn’t so strange to listen to her new friend beg for dirt on her old friend-who apparently had a taste for white mochas now. 

Song held up her finger like a stern school marm. “Your really old friend is a hottie, and still technically a prince, and it is a miracle he wasn’t recognized here. He’s a celebrity. He did a spread in _Lotus and Lilly_ like two months ago for crying out loud. Did you see it?”

She snorted. “My brother sent us all copies.” And selfies of him holding up copies in the grocery store, making incredulous faces at Zuko’s glossy torso. 

Someone is going to have to describe this cover to me at length. Toph had said. 

“I promise if anything scandalous happens you’ll be the first to know. Are you still helping me study for chemistry on saturday?”

“You know it!” Song gave Katara a fond pat on the head and headed back out on the floor, yelling at Hua to take her break. Katara made her way to the back door and took her hair down, massaging her scalp as she left the alley and started off down the street to the bus stop. 

The city was a wonder in late spring, the air was heavy with jasmine in bloom, the promise of rain, and grass in the sunlight. Katara relished the warmth; she missed home sometimes, there was always something beautiful about the snowy tundra and unbroken blue sky, but she wasn’t sure she could ever give up summertime again. 

She got to the bus stop and sank onto the bench, letting her body settle into the aches and pains of a full workday as she watched people milling by and the trees swaying overhead. Long day, and it wasn’t over. She had a class tonight, and an essay to finish and…

_Call or text when you get a chance_

Chewing her lip she pulled her phone out of her jeans and then Zuko’s business card. It was heavy somehow, and matte black, with his name, email and phone number embossed in dove gray. 

_**Zuko of House Sozin**_

**__**_He just carries his personal line on him? He’s lucky he’s never lost one of these._ She thought, snickering to herself. And with that in mind she punched in his number, saved his contact and ripped his card into tiny tiny pieces before tossing it in the trash. Still grinning to herself, she shot off a text.

_Hey! Katara here!_

She was about to put her phone away but saw the three dots pop up right away.

_Will anyone ever let me live that down?_

_Not a chance._

_I should have known but it never hurts to ask. Are you busy tomorrow?_

_I’m free around one._

_Lunch at the Garden Gate? 2 o clock? My treat._

_Sure!_

_Perfect. See you then._

She jumped at the hiss of her bus pulling up, and shoved her phone back in her pocket, humming to herself as she tapped her pass to the scanner and sat in one of the front window seats. She tried planning the conclusion to her essay while staring out the window but it was proving difficult. As long as it had been since she’d seen Zuko it had been almost that long since she’d seen anyone else from the old crew. They used to make time to see each other on birthdays and holidays but life was quickly getting in the way and it had been almost a year since she’d even seen Sokka. 

They both had school, Aang was off being a global diplomat/Avatar extraordinaire, and Toph had all of her charity work. Suki was off globe trotting with the Kyoshi Warriors...Hakoda went home to the South Pole where he was rebuilding the community...along with Bato...and he didn’t seem nearly ready to have that conversation yet so she and Sokka let him be. 

She knew they couldn’t all stay together forever, and it’s not like she even wanted to, but she would be lying if she said she hadn’t been homesick lately. Homesick for her family. Maybe it was a good thing Zuko showed up when he did.

She let the city melt around her and drifted back and forth between memories made, and ones that had yet to be made, still humming all the while.

-


	2. Hello, My Old Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my old heart  
> How have you been?

Zuko wished more than anything that his work involved less back alleys and more board rooms, but such was the nature of untangling all the knots his father tied. There were messes for him to clean up all over the world, but Ba Sing Se was his latest headache. He’d been putting it off for years, because the city was such a behemoth. Hundreds of thousands of people, dozens of miles across, and filled with underground caverns, neighborhoods and various warrens, many created by earthbenders which just made them even more complicated to find or navigate. It was a paradise for criminals, which had paid the family bills for many many years. It was the second major hub of the Sozin criminal empire besides Capital City in the Fire Nation proper, and while Zuko had been reluctant to begin his work there-there was so much, where was he meant to start?- it was time. 

He was just so goddamn tired. Every time he thought he gained a victory against the various and sundry evils his family had put into the world, another cropped up. It was the many headed snake that never stopped biting him. 

_This is only temporary Zuko,_ his uncle often reminded him. _You are doing what is necessary and someday it will pay off._

It would have been nice if someday was today, he mused, dodging backward as one of Li Zheng’s henchmen took an energetic swing at his face. The man was a bruiser, tall and built for knocking teeth out.

“Watch the face!” Zuko snapped. “I have a...an appointment later.”

His distraction at his almost-slip of the tongue left room for the second “bodyguard” to slip inside his guard and pop him in the jaw. They were in a narrow alley and Zuko lost his footing so took the weight of his fall on his shoulder against a ragged stone wall. Bruises upon bruises. “Son of a bitch.” He groaned. Enough was enough. 

The smaller man darted toward him again but Zuko was well past playing nice out of courtesy to Master Zhiang. In one brutal motion he kicked in his attacker’s knee, and as he crumpled Zuko palmed his head and smacked it into the wall with a sickening crack. Blood sprayed and the man went down, injured, but not dead.The bruiser was a problem, he was an inch or two taller than Zuko’s 6’4, and he fought like a bull. He rushed at Zuko, head down, arms out, ready to crush him into the ground. Katara flashed into his thoughts at that moment, she had been doing that a lot since he ran into her yesterday. 

_Waterbending can be used in fighting too. Using people’s strength against them is the core foundation. Let me show you._

Zuko ducked under the man’s guard and used the momentum of his attack, anchoring the man’s ribs against his shoulder and gripping his thigh. His muscles strained in protest as he let the man’s weight and force rest against him and vaulted him over his shoulder. The man landed in a heap behind Zuko, groaning but he didn’t move to get up.

Zuko straightened up and rolled his neck, facing Zhiang with a glint in his eye as his two bodyguards groaned in pain. “I came to you with an open mind.” He said, nostrils flaring. 

Zhiang was one of his father’s oldest business partners, he ran almost every gambling racket to be had in the city, but he was also a slumlord in his spare time and relished throwing families out in the street. He’d been stubborn about meeting with Zuko for years, having nothing but contempt for Ozai’s youngest-an upstart, the problem child, the list went on. Iroh had warned him to be careful when Zhiang offered a meeting, and Zuko listened. Or he thought he listened. He should have taken Rei with him. His head bodyguard would be mad enough to spit when he heard Zuko went without him.

Zhiang was looking neat and tidy in his pinstriped suit, and still managed to look intimidating even though he was leaning on a heavy black cane and had gray feathering in at his temples. He would have looked bored, but his eyes betrayed him, they were like a bird’s, dark, bright, and cunning.

“An open mind is often a weak one.” He said. He had such a quiet voice, the kind that made you almost want to lean in to make sure of what he was saying. “I will not give up my holdings to you, you were foolish to believe such a thing would be possible.”

Zuko seethed, and he felt flames curl from the corners of his mouth, something he could never seem to control about his temper. His jaw hurt, his knuckles were scraped raw and he wanted to throttle this man within an inch of his life. 

_But I am trying to be better._

“You need to think very carefully about what it means to refuse my offer of going legitimate.” Zuko said, straightening his shirt, and wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, so he would not look like a complete degenerate when he rejoined the crowds on the street. “I am not my father, but I know a monster when I see one.Creatures like you do not deserve a gentle hand.”

Zhiang snorted. “Then strike me down now, there’s nothing stopping you.”

Zuko shrugged and walked past him towards the street, ignoring the tiny thrill of fear that came with turning his back to someone who had killed without conscience plenty of times before. He did not look back.

“Like I said, I am not my father.”

“Enjoy your _appointment_.”

It was only the years of political schooling that kept him walking. One little hesitation in his step would have given Zhiang everything he needed. “You know where to reach me.” He said before leaving the alley. He wandered for a few blocks, then called a cab back to his apartment, his heart pounding in his ears the whole way.

\--

He’d gotten a loft in the middle ring, and paid someone else to make liveable. It was on the third and highest floor, had ceilings high enough for bats to nest in, and was decorated all over with plants, and warm masculine colors. A slate gray sectional piled with a rust colored throw blanket and various pillows lurked in the corner next to a wall of industrial sized windows, and a plush olive green rug guarded the light wooden floors against scuffs. The kitchen was modern, all stainless steel and black, and Zuko was grateful for the gas range, because he’d gotten rather fond of cooking lately. There was a guest bed and bath suite off the living room that was all cream and unassuming, but when the designer asked him about the master room he’d simply asked for blue. He was sick to death of his father’s decor back home, gaudy crimson from stem to stern. 

There were a couple charcoal rugs littered on the floor, some tropical plants he didn’t have a name for(who watered them? Was it Rei?) by the windows and a huge bed- way too big for just him- bedecked in silky bed sheets and a duvet all a blue so deep it was almost black. Zuko knew dickshit about interior design but he liked the contrast between the dark colors against the bright floors and walls,and the surplus of daylight always coming in through the gauzy curtains (the windows were so enormous, the curtains could have dressed an elephantbear).

He hadn’t had time to admire the furnishings today, he was busy in the bathroom (also hobo-modern, rain shower head, separate tub perched in front of said shower, enormous mirror and counter, this place really was ridiculous), pressing at the fresh bruise on his jaw like that would make it go away.

He knew she would zero in on it and look at him with that little wrinkle between her eyebrows. _“What have you been getting up to?”_

He still couldn’t believe he ran into her here of all places, and he could not get the image of her in that coffee shop out of his head. She looked so different and yet completely the same, staring at him with those ocean eyes, a little surprised, but happy he supposed. He hoped. It was odd seeing her in a coffee stained apron, with her hair thrown back in a high ponytail, color high on her cheeks. Like she appeared out of nowhere, her face saying: _Where have you been?_

He remembered her best in shorts and a tank top in an abandoned temple, bedraggled from being on the run, staring him down like she was going to kill and eat him. He smiled at the memory as he prodded his chin, wincing as he found the worst of it. 

He’d deserved all her vitriol and more, after everything he put her and her friends through. He still couldn’t believe he’d earned their forgiveness. Anyone’s forgiveness really, but Katara’s especially. She could hold a grudge to the ends of the earth and back again. 

He sighed and checked his phone, trying not to think of that last time he saw her, two years ago. What a disaster. He felt pangs of guilt stirring to life again as he walked back into his room and grabbed clean clothes for their d-

He froze, his hand on a black short sleeved button down. 

_Not that. Not anything even approximating that. What are you thinking? She is a friend. You are catching up with a friend._

He dressed quickly in dark jeans and the shirt he picked, then shook out his hair before smoothing it into his usual top knot. 

_One of your oldest and dearest friends, who you owe your life to. Who you owe an explanation to._

Unconsciously his hand drifted to his chest, to the spot right over his heart.

His phone buzzed and looked down to see a message from Iroh pop up on the screen.

_Don’t be late._

He jammed his phone in his pocket, threw on some sneakers and grabbed his keys as he left. He had a car, but the restaurant he picked was not far so he decided to walk. It was a nice day, and if nothing else, maybe it would calm his nerves

\--

He would often wonder later if he hadn’t stopped and stared if things would have played out differently, or if they would have played out at all. The cafe sat on a corner, with stairs leading up to the entrance. Floor to ceiling glass windows looked out over the tiered garden that trailed downward. There was a decent amount of foot traffic in this area, it was a nice leisure district full of restaurants, parks and shopping, but Zuko didn’t need to search through the crowd for a single second before he saw her. 

She wore a loose cream colored blouse tucked into a flared blue skirt and fawn ankle boots, and her hair was pinned back on one side. The rest hung in thick, chestnut waves down to the center of her back, and he was struck with the sudden, insistent thought: _I am so glad she didn’t cut it._

Not that it would matter if she had. She would look great even if she followed Aang’s example and shaved her head. Not that his opinion even mattered in what she chose to do with her hair.

And now he was thinking about her ex-suitor and how she would look bald. Well. And her legs. And how they looked as lithe and strong as ever.

And how the shade of blue she was wearing set off the warmth of her brown skin so nicely. 

And how striking her eyes were as she looked up from her phone, looking dead at him. 

Oh wait. Shit.

He walked over to her trying to act like he hadn’t just been caught blatantly staring, and smiled. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze, reminding him that he was at least a full head taller than her. He always forgot. She was a force of nature, and that rather distracted him from any height difference. 

“I wasn’t sure if I should grab a table or-” Spirits even hearing her speak was like a hand closing inside his chest. He’d forgotten so much about her.

He shook his head, “No I made a reservation, sorry I forgot to mention it.”

She smiled, opened her mouth to say something else, then froze, and glanced behind him, a look of horror on her face. Instinct kicked in and he pivoted, putting his right hand on her shoulder and sliding her behind him, just as the flash of a camera went off.

A smiling kid stood there holding his phone up. “It’s Zuko, right? And Katara’s behind you? I never thought I would see two people from Team Avatar together!” 

People immediately stopped and turned to see what the kid was yelling about, and with his hand still on her shoulder Zuko felt Katara tense up. She hated this kind of attention just as much as he did.

He smiled awkwardly and lied badly. “We actually have a meeting to get to, sorry. We’ll uh. See you around.”

He turned around quickly, and slid his arm across Katara’s shoulders, guiding her away from the crowd. He knew they were probably getting photographed anyway but getting away from the situation was worth the cost. He turned his head to apologize to her, for the situation and for dragging her close so she was pressed into his side, but he forgot again how short she was which meant he ended up murmuring “Sorry.” Into her hair.

She shook her head as they turned down an abandoned side street that boasted one small bookshop and a bunch of balconies overhead, riddled with plants and trailing vines. “Nothing to be sorry for. Too bad about lunch though.”

They both looked around in tandem and when it was clear no one was following them, they moved away from one another. Katara’s hand slid along the small of his back and lingered for a spare moment above his hip before she pulled away and looked up at him. 

Having her here with him, so close after so long was a heartbeat, and an echo, a promise of things to come, and a reminder of things that already passed. It was everything in him thrumming in harmony, seeming to say: _Oh hello. How have you been? It has been far far too long._

He did not have nearly enough time to parse what that meant. Instead his mind raced over different options before thinking of one he hoped was right.

“Come on.” He said, nodding to the opposite end of the street. “I know a place.”


	3. Sweet Girl I Feel Like Quittin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet girl I feel like quittin  
> Cause I'm tired of missin home  
> But the moments I am with you home begins to roam  
> Rest, Rose-Zach Bryan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry posting has been so spotty! I am getting back into this story after a lot of personal crisis. Thank you all for your support, if you feel like leaving a comment, just know they make my day! Love you all!

Katara followed Zuko closely as they travelled south, into the older part of the Middle Ring. It wasn’t that she was afraid per se, but, being cornered by strangers in broad daylight had her every nerve scraped raw, and she didn’t have any water or weapons on her. The next best thing was a firebender. It took her a while to calm down, but when she did she noticed how quiet it was here in the Historic District. Most of the roads were only accessible by foot, so the constant hum of traffic was far away. The pathways spilled out here and there into squares and pavilions, some dedicated to fountains and others to market places and small parks. Vines and flowers spilled over balconies, and trailed up walls, conversations were more hushed, and the air was rife with the smell of coffee from little cafes and jasmine blooming in the sun. 

She was just wondering why things were starting to look so familiar when they rounded a corner. 

“Oh.” She breathed. The tea shop. The first shop he worked in when he got to the city all those years ago while he was on the run with his uncle. Things he had told them later, things she had never seen. It seemed so much smaller now. The yellow paint was faded and peeling, and the front garden had grown wild, leaving only a small path to the front door. Zuko looked back at her sheepishly, and she wondered if it would ever stop hitting her that he was _here._

His scar, mottled pink of every shade, sweeping back to his temple, that smile, the set of his shoulders. How he tilted his head to make sure she knew he was looking at her. 

“We bought it ages ago, I hired a housekeeper and was supposed to get a gardener too, but I...uh. Forgot.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and she could sense his hesitation.

_Please don’t doubt yourself._

She smiled and nudged him with her elbow. “Firelords first.” 

He sighed and picked his way to the front door, talking as he went as if her following him was never in question. “I kind of used this place as a crash pad when I first got into the city. I still keep it stocked up and clean in case I need it.”

“A crash pad?” She frowned as he dug in his pocket and she heard the jingle of keys. “You could have stayed at my place.”

As soon as she said it she saw her studio loft, the ratty couch, her stove burner that didn't quite work and of course her sleepless nights rambling from one end of the house to the other fighting off nightmares. It was a short trip, and it never tired her out. It was probably good that he preferred this.

He shrugged, his shoulders moving in distracting ways under his dark, tailor-made shirt. “I didn’t even know you were here. And if I did, I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“I find it hard to believe with all your connections you didn’t know where I was.”

He paused and shouldered the door open, motioning her inside. All the tables and chairs were shoved off to the left wall, a twin bed sat against the wall opposite the door. The wall separating the kitchen and the front of house had been taken out, so now there was just a low counter between the kitchen and the rest of the shop. Zuko flipped on the lights and shut the door behind them, locking it firmly before moving off to the side. The tables were stacked with one top down on the other, so Zuko grabbed the legs of the nearest one and flipped it over like it weighed nothing. He wiped off what little dust there was, and moved to get chairs, but Katara was already pulling them up. 

He smiled a little and went to the kitchen instead. Katara hesitated for a moment before following him and sitting on one of the stools that stood in front of the counter that cut the kitchen off from the rest of the shop. Zuko glanced at her and gave a slight smile as he washed his hands and started pulling things out of the cabinets and one small refrigerator. She watched him closely as he put a pan on the stove and quickly chopped up some vegetables. 

“Are you going to answer my question?” She asked. 

He pursed his lips and tossed the veggies in the pan. “You didn’t ask me anything, technically.” 

She sucked her teeth in irritation and just let him work. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere. Plus it was kind of nice to watch him in motion, especially his hands, quick and clever as he chopped, peeled, and threw stuff into the pan. You could always tell a bender apart from anyone else by their hands. There was something about using them just a little more than the average person that gave benders a little extra quickness and dexterity. Eyeing Zuko's long fingers, she wondered if he ever took up piano. Would she be suited to an instrument? And where did he learn how to cook? She supposed it had been a long long time since they were all on the run, dodging each other, then working together to thwart his sister, and Ozai’s goon squads. She knew how to cook but didn’t think to teach anyone else in between dodging bullets and kidnapping attempts. Did Iroh teach him? Did he just learn on his own?

The stir fry didn’t take long, and he even topped hers with a fried egg. He brought the bowls, and two beers from the fridge over, and set them on the counter, forgetting the table entirely. She dug in, and if she had any doubts about his cooking ability they vanished because it was delicious. He was so tall he had to lean over the counter to eat his food, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

“So,” Katara said between bites, and a swig of beer, “Since you want it to be a question: Why haven’t you kept tabs on me? And while we’re on the subject, why haven’t you kept in touch? Why is the last time I remember seeing you at the Water Tribe Embassador’s gala two years ago?”

He paused and set down his fork, looking around the tea shop like it was the answer in and of itself . She’d wanted to take it slow with the questions but she couldn’t help it, these things had kept her up all night, which was, admittedly, a nice change of pace from the nightmares. She thought back, really thought to the last time she’d seen him, heard from him. And it really had been two entire years. And the only point of before versus after she could come up with was the gala. 

It was an event celebrating finally opening a Water Tribe embassy in the Fire Nation, and the gala was held in Capital City. She remembered being there with him and the whole Avatar crew. Aang and Sokka had been busy trying to out drink each other, and she stuck by Toph as much as she could, but the other girl bailed as soon as she was able. Zuko had been there working the room, smiling and genial, handsome in black and gold, and he’d even danced with her. She remembered the room turning around them, and his palms rough against her own, but he’d disappeared not long after. 

She’d been busy in the weeks following, wrestling with herself, fighting with Sokka, and eventually deciding she wanted to start college. Away from the Water Tribe. Sokka had a fit, and they swung for the fences like they always did, but Aang wasn’t there to cool their tempers anymore. But she was 19, it already felt like time was slipping away. She was 21 now and just finishing up her sophomore year. With time and distance from those frantic post war feelings that she was wasting the opportunity it didn’t quite feel like the end of all things was lurking around every corner. 

Toph had suggested she top it all off with some therapy but she wasn’t there yet. 

In any case between fighting her brother, making her decision and packing up for Ba Sing Se it kind of missed her notice that Zuko fell off the map. And by the time she did notice, it just seemed like she’d be bothering him if she pressed the issue. He had a hell of a lot more on his plate than she did. And maybe they all meant different things to each other after the war. 

It was hard to not feel unwanted after people didn’t have to lean on you quite so hard. Well. Aang was always the exception to that. She was afraid he’d always carry a torch for her. 

Zuko looked at her from across the counter, silent like he was measuring her. He had always been a prince in technicality and title, but here in this shabby tea shop, with the way he was looking at her…There was no doubt he was royalty.

His eyes sat under sabel, paint stroke, brows, keen, golden, hawkish; and everything about his face from his jawline to his scar was perfect, if not in symmetry, then in harmony. He had always been good looking, she knew that, but somewhere along the way he’d grown from a handsome boy to a devastating man, and she found herself suddenly at a loss for what to do with this information.

He tapped his fingers across the counter considering her. 

“Taking down my father’s empire has been a lot more dangerous than I thought. People have tried to kill me more than once, and the people around me.”

Katara let that hang in the air for a second, a curious sensation beginning somewhere around the base of her spine. “The gala?” she asked. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sokka snuck me out. It was…fine.”

“He did what?!”

“I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

“ _Zuko._ ”

“I took care of the...attackers, I made sure no one was in danger.”

“ _You_ were in danger!” 

She could not help raising her voice, and she suddenly felt like she was on shaky ground. He looked surprised, and faltered. “I was...mostly fine.”

“Why wouldn’t you come to me? To any of us? You had some of the most powerful benders in the world at your disposal!”

He remained where he was rooted in place, staring at his hands. “My father’s empire caused so much suffering. So many people died, lost money, lost their families and homes. And I hounded you all because Aang was the only thing standing in his way, and I was so desperate for him to take me back. I just...felt like by that point I had caused you all enough grief.”

Katara raked her hair back from her face, her stomach knotted with anger. “Grief? We’re your friends. We’re here to help you, I’m-wait.”

She leaned over the counter and yanked him forward by the chin, turning his head to the side, and sure enough, there was a shadow of a bruise. It laid so close to his jawline and was so recent she missed it. Idiot. 

Seething, her gaze flicked to meet his, and she was suddenly frozen. It was an awkward position, her knees were on the barstool, and her hips braced against the counter leaving her stretched across the counter, with one palm down , and her other hand preoccupied with Zuko’s face. Her thumb pressed into his chin, and she was so close his breath stirred her hair. She could smell his cologne, dark and _hot_ and light was slipping across his eyes like sunlight through glass. 

Close, close too close, but she couldn’t move. One way or another, she would fall. Suddenly she was struggling to breathe. 

“Let me help you.” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

Carefully, painfully so, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away, his other hand on her shoulder steadying her as she sat back down. Her shoulder burned in the absence of his touch, and though he looked calm, she was a healer, and more than that a water bender, who was especially attuned to the peculiarities of blood. And Zuko’s pulse was racing. 

“This was a mistake.” He whispered, refusing to look at her any longer. 

Katara’s nostrils flared and she hopped down from her barstool, grabbing her bag. “The only mistake you’re making is being stubborn. You seem to be forgetting the only reason we took down Azula is because of me. The only reason your heart is beating right now is because of me. And just. Fuck you.” 

She stormed out of the tea shop, not bothering to close the door or look behind her, or to see Zuko’s hand unconsciously drift to his chest. 


End file.
